Dedicated to Victoria Malloy, who asked me to write how Lyra felt towards her mother at that moment.
Hope you enjoy! xoxo
Lyra felt her mind drifting towards consciousness.
She could see the light outside her closed eyelids, not too bright so to actually disturb her, but light nonetheless. She felt a softness beneath her. She had only lied in something so soft and cozy for a brief period of her short life, many weeks ago in London.
She breathed in deeply as her mind urged to open her eyes and her body urged for more needed rest. For many days now she had been sleeping on the hard cold floor, with blankets that seemed too thin to hold any heat around her body. Here, she was warm and comfortable and a peaceful feeling settled in her.
Eventually, though, her mind won the struggle and, taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes.
The first thing she registered was the scent. A sweet, perfumed smell. Without moving, she realised she was in a dimly lit room. The softness she had felt before was from nothing less than the large double bed she was in.
How had she come to this place? What was this place? She couldn't remember.
Looking to the side, she saw Pan in his cat form. His head laid on the cloud-like pillow and a linen blanket covered his body.
Suddenly, it all came back to her: the struggle against that wicked people; the horrific machine; the hands that went deeper than any hand should ever go; the weakness... Had it all been a dream?
She touched her daemon softly, testing the feel of his fur in her fingers, afraid he would vanish at any moment. He reacted putting a paw over her chest, as if to hug her.
"Pan...?" she whispered almost inaudibly.
In a single movement, she swept him up, taking her dear companion into her arms. She hugged him tightly. Maybe tighter than she ever did. She pressed him into her heart. His heartbeat matching hers.
"Oh, Pan" she whispered into his fur.
He was here.
"Lyra?" a hand touched her shoulder softly.
Who could be disturbing this moment? Furthermore, from whom that soft, shy touch could belong to? Certainly not to the men nor the nurse that grabbed her.
She turned her head slowly to peek over her shoulder. She almost wished she hadn't, however, for the person who stood in there was no other than Mrs. Coulter!
"Darling…" said the sweet voice.
Lyra's reaction, then, surprised even herself.
"Don't! Don't you touch!" she said jolting to the end of the other side of the bed so that she was the farthest as possible from the woman.
Pantalaimon, freeing himself from her protective arms, jumped to the floor beside her, hiding, in case she would try to put her hands on him.
"No. No, no. No one's…" the blonde-haired woman tried to say as Lyra backed even more.
Mrs. Coulters' face was... Careful? Lyra had never seen this look on her eyes before.
"No one is going to hurt you. No one is ever, ever going to hurt you" she tried to assure Lyra, gesticulating with her hands to emphasise the meaning of her words.
She passed her hands softly in Lyra's knee in a failed attempt to soothe her. The two of them seemed like magnets of same polarity, for for every movement the woman made towards Lyra, the girls' movements were on the opposite direction.
Perched on the edge of the bed, Lyra had no choice but to let Mrs. Coulter's hand caress her knee. Her whole body was tense; she could feel it just as she could feel Pantalaimon's fur bristled as he carefully watched that hateful monkey at his human's feet.
"They…" she swallowed hard "They did it to Billy… And those other kids" Lyra managed to say. Her mouth felt dry, her tongue didn't seem obey her commands properly "They cut their daemons' away."
Mrs. Coulters' face was suddenly impassive. Hard. Lyra once again felt afraid but now was too late to stop.
"Why? Why are they doing that?" she whined but, at the same time, was glad by the firm pitch in her voice.
"I know, I know it's difficult to understand, but it's for their own good," the woman said sounding no convincing at all "it's just a little cut."
And, seeing as Lyra once more tried to back impossibly away, she changed her approach.
"You listen," she said as she finally straightened her body up "you listen to me," she carefully watched as Lyra focused on her.
"A long, long time ago, some of our ancestors made… Made a terrible mistake." she looked meaningfully to the child "They disobeyed the Authority. And that is what made Dust come into the world. And ever then we've been sick with it, we've been sick with Dust… But there is a way out." she smiled briefly as it was some indeed good new.
"You see, Dust doesn't settle on innocent children. It's later. When your daemon begins to settle that Dust begins to swarm all around us, trying to work its mischief and that's how children begin to have all sorts of nasty thoughts and unhappy feelings… But there is a way to stop it. A little cut. And it's gone, forever."
During her speech, she circled the bed and seated by Lyra's feet. All along, she felt the girl wasn't buying her lie. She was too smart…
"Well, if it is so good" Lyra put an emphasis on the last word "why don't you do it to yourself? Why not let them do it to me?!"
Mrs. Coulter smiled at her, a sad and knowingly smile.
"I am going to tell you something. Something very important you don't know. Intercision is not perfect yet, and you are not just anyone Lyra… Your mother didn't die in an airship accident as you were told; she wasn't married to your father and even though…" she took a breath "even though she loved you very much and… and she wanted to keep you… it wasn't allowed"
Mrs. Coulter seemed to momentarily lose herself in thought before eying Lyra back.
"So you were taken from her. And it wasn't until things… changed… And she was free to do as she wanted to do it… She went to Jordan College and she spoke to the Master."
She watched as the truth dawned in Lyra and the girl opened her mouth in surprise.
"NO! You can't be!" she said as she finally ran away from the bed and from her mother.
Marisa wanted to stop her daughter and make Lyra look in her eyes. She wanted to pull the girl into a tight hug, as she'd done once or twice at home, their home, without the child even knowing the reason why. But she stopped herself.
Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. Did Lyra realise how much she was hurting her? She turned quickly, however, to prevent the Golden Monkey to go after her daughter's daemon. He was upset and he was angry. He wanted to comfort Pantalaimon, assure him everything would be fine, but she knew they needed their space.
"Yes Lyra, you're mine." she held him firmly in place.
"And you're safe with me" she stood, still holding her hand behind her, a symbol for her daemon stay where he was "You'll always be safe with me"
She stood before Lyra but kept her distance.
Mrs. Coulter? Her… Mother? No, it couldn't be. She was a liar! All that woman had done before was lying (about them coming to the North, who she was, what she did for the Magisterium, what they did to the kids…), she ought to be lying again! Lyra didn't believe her and, most of all, she didn't want to believe. However, something deep inside her knew it wasn't a lie.
She could only think about the alethiometer. Oh, how fervently she wished to use it! It would tell everything… The truth, not half nor a interpretation; it would tell her all of it in the purest form. The intentions that led to this moment, if they were still the same... It was almost a necessity to know. Nevertheless, she couldn't use it now. The Master had stressed quite well the importance to keep it hidden and, now she realized, he meant especially from Mrs. Coulter. Later then, when she was free, she thought to herself, but certainly not now.
For the entire time, Pan had been aware of the hateful monkey and now, as he was forced to stay away by his human, he looked almost vulnerable. He seemed… amiable? If one didn't know better, could almost say that he looked loving.
Lyra heard Mrs. Coulter's footsteps approaching and, reluctantly, turned to her.
"Who's my father?" she was unable to control her curiosity.
The woman opened her mouth as to speak, but no sound came. Although, her look betrayed her; it was someone Lyra knew… She didn't need to put much thinking into it for, deep down, she already knew the truth.
"Lord Asriel." she stated "He's my father, isn't he?" again, she couldn't control her emotions. Her happiness, her enthusiasm, were too much to be held back. Uncle Asriel… Her father!
It was no wonder he always made some time to see her when he went to Jordan, as it now seemed perfectly reasonable why he took her 'when her parents died' and why he was so thoughtful about her education, always filling her with questions about what she was being taught or not happy when he discovered she had been missing classes.
So, if this all was true (and Lyra hoped only the part of Lord Asriel was), then it made her 'mother' even worse! Why hadn't she gone visiting her for her whole life? If she was indeed taken from her parents, shouldn't Lord Asriel also not have been allowed to see her? There was more to this story, she was sure. A lot more.
Mrs. Coulters' face was hard, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Lyra couldn't really put a finger at all the emotions that were in there, her expression was much too complex for it. Even with all the time they'd lived together in London, the girl had never learned to read more than what the intoxicating woman let appear on the surface.
Lyra felt all her muscles tense as Mrs. Coulter paced slowly towards her. Her body was in escape mode, but there was nowhere to run. She briefly closed her eyes as she urged her legs to not move. She was surprised at how the closer she was to the woman, the more apprehensive she got.
"Yes, yes…" the soft and sweet voice whispered as long arms encircled Lyra. With one hand at the back of her head, Mrs. Coulter brought Lyra to her chest and gently rested her own head on top of the girls'. She knew she should have been filled with warmth at the maternal comfort she had wished for her whole life and yet, she felt nothing. She kept still, arms down, eyes low, as the fingers stroked her hair lightly and sweetly.
They kept like this for what seemed an eternity to Lyra. She knew what the woman was trying to do: she was trying to get Lyra to trust her, trust like she would trust a mother. Had she no shame? To use the one thing Lyra had lacked all her life: a mother; the soft caress of a feminine hand.
Eventually, though, Mrs. Coulter couldn't bear her anxiety any longer. From the moment Lord Asriel's name had come into the conversation, the Golden Monkey had become agitated, as if he had suddenly remembered something. Of course, he was betraying his human's feelings.
"Now, I almost forgot," she started to caress Lyra's hair again "the Master of Jordan gave you something, didn't he? He gave you an alethiometer, didn't he?"
I knew it, Pan! I knew it! she thought to him, smiling proudly at how perceptive she was. It was so obvious Mrs. Coulter was using her, that she couldn't care less to what happened to her or Pantalaimon; Lyra was just only mean she had to get to what she wanted and she wouldn't be able to help if she had been through the intercision. That meant, if she had survived the shock, of course… She had seen it with Billy, how he was unable to think anything other than Ratter. It she had gone suffered the so called 'surgery' she would never have been able to tell Mrs. Coulter where the compass was!
Mrs. Coulter once more pressed Lyra against her chest, ever so slightly, and took a deep breath, as if she wished to enjoy the moment a little longer.
"But you see," she lowered herself so as their eyes were on the same level, even though her hands rested a while more on Lyra's shoulder. It almost seemed that she was reluctant to let go "it wasn't really his to give."
She was such a liar! How could she have ever believed in something this woman said? But she was still in danger, she could still be thrown into that vile machine again, was Mrs. Coulter not pleased with her.
"Lie." Pan thought to her "She has to think she can trust you if we want to escape."
She was torn for a moment: she couldn't give the golden compass, it was hers and Lord Asriel might need it! On the other hand, Pan was right; she needed the woman to believe in her if she wanted a chance to escape. If only she could fool her with something else… It was then that the idea hit her: the spy-fly was also on her purse! It was a perfect distraction, buying her the time she needed to run from that room and, at the same time, she'd have to move quickly so to not be stung.
She glanced to the small purse in her hand before looking up again to Mrs. Coulter. It was important that she thought Lyra was looking at the alethiometer. Lyra lied easily, she did it as long as she could remember. She guessed it was in her blood, if what Mrs. Coulter said was indeed true, but this time was different: she had to be an artist, and she had been preparing for it her whole life.
"Oh, he did." Lyra tried a small, eager smile "Must've seemed such a puzzle, wondering what a silly, old thing like that was any good for…"
Lyra wondered how she had ever, ever, ever found this woman to be so fascinating and clever.
"All right. Here it is" she said trying hard to seem decided as she handed the tin containing the spy-fly. She made sure to smile too, every tiny detail mattered now.
Mrs. Coulter eyed the tin suspiciously for a moment.
"Thank you" she kissed Lyra's forehead.
She straightened herself, analyzing the metal compartment in her hands. Something didn't seem quite right, the weight was too light to be the one of the compass…
"What a funny old tin! Did you put it in here to keep it safe, dear?" she was studying the melted iron that sealed the tin. Lyra found a letter opener above the table and handed to her, she needed to open it as quick as possible, before she changed her mind! Beside her, Lyra silently put on her boots and got her belongings, ready to shoot out the door as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
As she begun to pull the iron off, the Golden Monkey jumped on the table, too impatient to wait for his human. He took it from her hand and examined again, trying to figure the best way to open it. He ripped the seal so fast that Lyra almost couldn't believe; then, as he was about to open it, the monkey curiously bent closer. A furious buzzing filled the room.
Lyra and Pantalaimon held themselves still. Mrs. Coulter also got closer for a moment before suddenly and snapping it from her daemons' hand and pressing it shut again as hard as she could.
She placed it under a heavy, metal ornament that was on top of the desk and turned back to face Lyra.